


I guess I'm living in a drought

by rainbowrabblerouser



Series: I project onto gay characters with ADHD in melancholy [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Author Projecting, Character Study, Falling In Love, Introspection, Loneliness, Love Confessions, Luke Skywalker Has ADHD, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, M/M, POV Luke Skywalker, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowrabblerouser/pseuds/rainbowrabblerouser
Summary: Luke thinks too much.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Series: I project onto gay characters with ADHD in melancholy [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712914
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70





	I guess I'm living in a drought

**Author's Note:**

> "Imagination" - Foster the People
> 
> "Stars" - fun.
> 
> "Rocketman" - Elton John
> 
> "Starman" - David Bowie
> 
> "The Lucky One" - Taylor Swift
> 
> Here's my Luke Skywalker playlist
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4YiVrFVEbYBXVTNWNqbCeF?si=JjhujBfqRH2RT_g9MP6GZQ

There are times in which Luke wishes he was someone else.

All the time.

When someone feels the need to throw themselves at his feet like he was the messiah.

When he feels so lonely and isolated, despite being in a crowded room.

When he spends nights crying his fucking eyes out because he thinks about it all.

Because he’s a great legend.

And the king of their hearts.

Who belonged to no one.

Gone were the days of being the nobody.

The forgotten child left on Tatooine to deal with life parentless.

And he would have to accept that. 

Luke would think about his mom and what she would have been like had she met him.

He heard she was a queen and just like him: wearing frilly outfits, dramatic, sharp, quick.

Maybe she would have been happy with how he turned out.

She sure would have been proud of Leia.

Sure, he never knew her, but he missed her so much.

Maybe she was out there in the Force and missed him too.

Luke suspects he’s the failure kid.

He couldn’t ever process things the same way as others. Maybe he had a disorder or something wrong.

All his life, it was like he was running on a motor. 

And this whole war was exhausting it so much, he felt like he was going to blow any moment.

But he doesn’t. Because he can’t.

Without their savior, how could the galaxy live? How could they go on? 

He never considered himself a leader. Luke is more like the guy with the big picture.

He’ll share it, then let everyone else get to figuring out how to make it come to life.

Luke doesn’t want this as much as he used to want it.

There were times in his youth that he would long for people to notice him, rather than pass him by because his poncho was the same color as the sand and so was his hair.

Because he is nothing to behold.

But now, he’s not.

He’s everything.

The big damn hero.

He feels like his own fucking villain.

Because the thoughts of inadequacy were eating him alive. And he didn’t know when he’d be swallowed whole.

Luke isn’t the man they think he is at all.

Like he was some big starman with all of the answers. The prodigal son of the revolution.

But he doesn’t rule the world.

He’s always holding onto stars, but he’s fading in the dark.

“No one here is gonna save us.”

No. He will. He always will.

Because that’s his fate. Destiny calls for stars like him (if there was anyone else in the galaxy remotely like him) to go on quests like he did. 

He had somehow lost and found himself. It had been a long time since he felt like he was himself— a whole being.

Luke would close his eyes and think about tomorrow. He thinks he’s better from afar.

Like a star.

Too hot to touch. Too dangerous to be close.

Deadly.

Some nights he would just stare up at the ceiling in the midst of his tears and settle down for a moment as they burn at his face.

And he would think: “What the fuck did I do to deserve this?”

Then, recounts all of the times he spilled salt and he feels stupid.

Or he thinks about the others and what they did.

But they’re not him.

Han never got facial recognition so he was the guy who could slip away.

Leia was a master at avoiding people she didn’t want to see because she was already famous.

Luke was terribly awful.

He had a soft spot for people.

Especially kids who would look up to him (literally) and would tremble as they asked him to sign whatever they had.

It’s nice to know people still cared.

He used to think he was going to die alone in the moisture farm, only going to Tosche Station for a quick fuck and a drink.

But there he was, a living legend.

Until he felt like he wasn’t one.

“You don’t feel pretty; you just feel used.”

Is what he tells Han.

One day, while they’re stargazing: a thing they were trying together.

Luke doesn’t know what to call the “unspoken thing” between him and Han (Leia’s words) but he guessed that he doesn’t mind it.

So when he feels Han take him in his arms as they stare out onto the millions of stars, he exhales and closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry about that, kid.”

Han’s deep voice reverbs through him.

His vibrato kept him at ease.

Major contrast to Luke’s higher pitched drawl.

“I hate how lonely it gets.”

Han would smirk and give him that look.

The one he had given him so many times when they were in trouble and Han had resigned to just letting things happen.

“Hey, you have me.”

Luke took his turn of letting things happen as he leaned into Han’s touch and he kissed him.

Han could be sweet. Underneath that bravado was a man who could love him.

And be soft.

Around Leia, he was all hard and stiff and angry. Around Luke, he’s light and still and airy. 

Like he was flying through the air and nothing else mattered.

Luke felt like he was still a dumb, horny teenager around him.

Because they’d make out for hours and tease each other.

They’d fuck and fight over and over.

And he’d feel giddy for once that in the time he’s not being shot at, he might have someone.

Some boyfriend or lover that the tabloids were too unaware to realize is there.

They all thought he and Leia were a thing, but they’re all wrong. She just needed to pass on her genes. Han doesn’t care.

Han would kiss him and he’d be too sweet and too good. So much so that Luke would question if he was dreaming.

Like he would wake up soon and find out he had been having a long nap one sunny afternoon in between rounds at the farm.

And he’d get to stare out at the binary sunset again. Alone.

He’d be Luke Nobody again.

The sad lonely gay kid who had no father and mother so he’d get into trouble just for the chance to feel something.

The guy who’d avoid work when he’s really fooling around with some boy at Tosche Station.

And when the boy would leave and make him promise not to ever speak to him again, he’d not even cry because deep down, he had already known it was going to happen.

But not now.

Han didn’t give a fuck.

Too cool for school, the man would shower him with affection and couldn’t give two shits who saw or what they thought.

It was routine for Han to take his hand as they walked throughout the base in between meetings.

And before every mission, he would kiss him with passion Luke never thought could be felt.

“I think...I love you.”

Luke rested his forehead against Han’s after he said it in between kisses.

As they lie under the stars, he realizes that maybe he didn’t have to be alone, after all.

“I know.”

Soon, he’d likely feel it all fade away, like it always did, so Luke just wanted to savor everything while it lasted.

Nothing lasts forever.

Han would kiss him and fuck his way and he’d just let him do whatever he wanted with him.

Luke was falling and he hated the feeling of it.

“Do you mean it?”

He yells it at him as Han pulls away.

On a day when they’re much older.

And still Luke feels like a kid.

Because he and his lover are having a shouting match.

“Mean what, kid?”

Luke would run up to him and pull him by the lapels in a show of dominance.

His breathing would turn heavy as he felt tears spill, betraying him.

Han would just let him and his voice hitched.

“When you said you love me.”

A moment passed as they stared.

Han had aged a bit, but he was still the same man. Same eyes. Gruff, mean, rough around the edges, blunt, very much Han.

“Of course I did. I love you, Luke.”

And Luke would pull him in for a rough kiss.

He could be rough too.

Luke had to be.

Everyone in the world knew who he was.

And he wasn’t the nobody twink from Tatooine anymore.

“That’s Luke fuckin’ Skywalker!”

Damn right it is.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @rainbowrabblerouser


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